


Succulent Therapy

by howdoyou_write



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, M/M, Succulents, Veteran Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6709465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoyou_write/pseuds/howdoyou_write
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes is a veteran who runs a flower shop. Steve Rogers walks in one day.</p>
<p>Things spiral from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Succulent Therapy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katharoses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katharoses/gifts).



> im very proud to announce that [samthebirdbae](http://samthebirdbae.tumblr.com) did art of this which i then decided i just needed to make into a fic because why not
> 
> [original art post](http://samthebirdbae.tumblr.com/post/143774062128/plant-shop-au-i-made-this-to-go-with-a-fic)  
>  

Bucky wouldn’t consider himself a lonely person. He was selective, that was all. He liked where he was, he liked his space.

 

And boy, did he like his plants.

 

Ever since he came back from overseas, Bucky found plants to be calming. He loved looking at them, caring for them, watching them bloom with all their colors. After years overseas, nothing was more beautiful to him than plants. All kinds of plants, any kind of plant. He loved them all.

 

He loved them so much he started a shop selling them. It was the best of both worlds, in Bucky’s opinion. He had an excuse to leave the house every day, and he got to do something he loved and was good at, but he wasn’t so dependent on the shop for work that he couldn’t take a few days or a week off when needed. It was nice, and he didn’t have to constantly worry if people would constantly stare at his metal arm. No one would question him wearing gloves.

 

So Bucky never considered himself lonely. He had a few friends, none that he saw more than once a week, but he had his plants, and he liked it that way.

 

Which is why it surprised him so much when a (cute,  _ oh my god he’s cute _ ) guy walked in, chiming the little bell, looking like a sore thumb amongst the vines draping from the main entrance. The guy was tall, taller than Bucky (if only slightly) so the vines hung in his face. He carefully moved them, almost as if he was scared to touch the leaves. He looked like he was afraid to hurt them. Bucky thought it was adorable--most people just walked in the place like they owned it. If the vines got in their way, they shoved them. It didn’t really bother Bucky, he purposefully picked some resilient vines for the front entrance. He knew how inconsiderate people could be and usually were. Bucky hadn’t even realized that he was bothered by it until cute guy came in and had to be all gentle and caring and considerate. 

 

The guy looked around, amazed. His eyes were wide and a little smile turned up at his lips, but it quickly was displaced by a look of terror. He put his hand on his hip and ran the other through his hair and down the back of his neck. He had the shoulder to waist ratio of a dorito.

 

Bucky swooped in, trying to put on a face that didn’t look completely apathetic or mean. (Clint had told him more than once that he had  _ the worst  _ resting bitch-face of the century.) He thanked his morning-self for choosing to put his hair up so he didn’t look quite as brooding as he did with his curtain of hair. And he did have to admit, he could work the lil’ bun.

 

“Can I help you with anything?” Bucky asked, and he couldn’t help but let out a small internal cheer for not squeaking. He shoved his left hand in his pocket, hoping Steve wouldn’t notice the gleam of the metal. He put on his best friendly smile and tried not to cringe at the way it felt like his lips were cracking despite the humid nature of the shop.

 

“Um…” Cute Guy began. He took another glance around looking frustrated. “I don’t… I don’t know?” He asked. His voice sounded uncomfortably high. 

 

Cute Guy took a deep breath and started again. “Sorry, I just have no clue what the hell I am doing.” He took another look around.

 

“It’s fine,” Bucky said with a light chuckle. He thought this guy was the cutest thing he had seen all… ever? “Do you have an idea what you’re looking for? That might help narrow it down.”   
  


“So my--Sam, he’s been really great lately and I was trying to do something thoughtful? But this might be too much and it would be weird…” Cute guy drifted off. Bucky’s heart plummeted at the thought that he had a significant other. He tried not to let the sharp pang get to him.

 

“You wanted flowers?”

 

“I don’t… I think so? Is that--would that be weird?” Cute Guy looked increasingly worried, which was not Bucky’s plan at the start of this conversation.

 

“I don’t think it would be weird,” Bucky basically blurted. He had the feeling like he needed Cute Guy to calm down, or be happy. Bucky didn’t think this guy deserved to be panicking. “Look, can I get a name to work with?” Bucky asked, trying to be a good businessman or whatever. Be approachable and all that jargon.

 

“Steve,” Cute Guy said. He held out his hand. “And you are?” He asked with a downright charming smile. Bucky felt his insides go mushy. He let a smile crawl across his face, not the goofy one he had in his head, but a polite one.

 

“Bucky.”

 

“Alright, Bucky, show me how to… plant.”

 

~

 

Bucky did show Steve how to ‘plant,’ and Steve left with a nice fresh orchid. He said Sam would love it. (Bucky’s heart  _ did not _ give a pulse of pain at the mention of that particular name.)

 

He spent the rest of the day tending to the succulents, his personal favorites. He helped the rest of the customers that happened to wander in in a daze. Some would say it’s the happiest Bucky has been in a long time. Bucky was hard-pressed to agree.

 

He went to bed that night both saddened and comforted by the fact that he would probably never see Steve again. 

 

~

 

But, of course, Bucky was wrong. (No surprise there.) Because Steve walked in the next day, a huge cheeky smile plastered on his face. Bucky almost didn’t hear the bell ring, he was so absorbed in his succulents and making sure they were all in tip-top shape. He was decidedly  _ not  _ thinking about Steve and how he was probably holding hands with Sam or maybe hugging him. They might be out to lunch or watching a movie, cuddling. Bucky’s heart was certainly  _ not  _ hammering hard in his chest thinking about it, saddened by the thought. He  _ didn’t  _ get a twinge of anxiety from thinking about how he hasn’t had a relationship in years and was too anxious and nervous to try and get out there to meet someone. 

 

Bucky was Fine.

 

Bucky was so Fine that his heart didn’t jump at the sight of Steve, big smile and all. He was so Fine that his heart didn’t jump a little at the thought that Steve was happy to see him. He was so Fine that his heart didn’t immediately fall back into the pit of his stomach at the realization that Sam was probably the one to put it there.

  
Bucky couldn’t tell if he was more uplifted at the chance to see Steve again or if he was more downtrodden because he had seen Steve again with a smile on his face that Bucky only wished he was able to put there.

 

One day and he was already completely gone on a customer. What a win.

 

“Hey!” Steve said excitedly, rushing right over to Bucky. “Sam loved the orchid!”

 

Bucky felt his heart skip a beat before falling to the floor. He’d never really felt his heart actually  _ hurt  _ before, but apparently that was a new thing which he was experiencing. Actual, physical, pain in his heart. Mixed with a jumble of anxiety in his lungs.

 

Bucky took a second to compose himself, taking a deep breath and trying to put on a believing smile. His metal fingers shifted, the plates whirring lightly as they moved.

 

_ How do I interact with cute humans? _

 

_ You don’t, smartass. _

 

“Really? How’d it go?” Bucky’s smile felt forced, but he kept it place anyway.

 

“Great! It went so well, it wasn’t awkward  _ at all _ ! He was so amazing about it, didn’t make it weird or anything,” Steve gushed. Bucky felt like someone was stabbing a dull blade into his chest. He kept his fake smile plastered on.

 

“That’s great, man,” Bucky replied, much less ecstatic, “I’m really glad he liked it.” His smile morphed into something a lot less plastic, something almost genuine.

 

“Thank you so much for helping me, I don’t know  _ what _ I would’ve done without your help,” Steve trailed on. He was blushing slightly. Bucky thought it was the most adorable thing he’d seen all week. His smile suddenly became a lot less forced.

 

“Happy to help,” Bucky said, turning back to his succulents. He wasn’t trying to be rude, honest, he just didn’t feel he could continue to talk to Steve without going completely catatonic, which seemed even more rude.

 

“So I was wondering,” Steve began, fiddling with the succulents Bucky was fixated on, “if you wanted to get a drink or something? Whenever you close?”

 

Bucky looked up in surprise, not fully believing that  _ Steve _ might be interested in  _ him _ .

 

“I mean,” Steve followed up, “y’know, as a thank you.”

 

_ Oh. _

 

Bucky’s face deflated a bit, but he blurted out “Yeah, sure,” before he could fully think about it. Steve’s face lit up and Bucky decided that being the reason for his smile was worth the pain of possibly listening to him talk about Sam all evening.

 

“Great! What time do you close?”

 

“Eightish.”

 

“I’ll come get you? There’s this great little bar a few blocks away.”

 

“Lemon’s?” Bucky asked, the memory of the little hole-in-the-wall jumping into his mind. Clint and him used to go there at least once a week to fuck around and play darts. Sometimes he would bring Nat and they would make a whole night of it, sometimes they would just sit in a booth drinking beer for a whole night. It was a great place, one of Bucky’s favorites, especially because of how quiet the area is.

 

“You know it?” Steve asked, looking surprised.

 

“Yeah, me and my friend go there all the time,” Bucky paused, “or we used to. Haven’t been in a while.” He looked down at his feet, thinking of Clint and how they hadn’t gone to that bar in forever. Come to think of it, he hadn’t even seen Clint in, what, a month? More?

 

He must’ve been contemplating a little too hard, because Steve cocked his head with a worried expression. “Are you okay, Buck?” Steve asked.  _ Apparently two syllables are too long for him,  _ Bucky thought, secretly please that he got a different nickname from Steve. He felt his face get  warm and hoped he wasn’t blushing, and if he was, he hoped it didn’t spread across his chest like it did when Bucky got really nervous.

 

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, trying for an air of calm. “I’m good.”  _ That sounds calm and collected, right? _

 

“Alright,” Steve said, a smile lighting up his face once more. “See you at eight.”

 

“I’ll be here.” Bucky smiled back, a soft smile, a genuine smile. One that didn’t hurt his lips. (It might’ve even made them look appealing, or so he hoped.)

 

Steve took a glance behind his shoulder before he walked out the door, and again when he was framed by the vines hanging from the door. Both times he blushed with a small smile on his face. Bucky couldn’t even stop the stupid smile that spread over his face by biting his lip (and he  _ swore  _ he saw Steve glance down to his lips, he  _ swears it _ ). 

 

~

 

Steve, true to his word, walked in the shop at eight o’clock sharp. (He may or may not have arrived five minutes early and hung around outside because he was too nervous to be early. He even debated trying to wait another few minutes so that he didn’t look like too much of a dork, but in the end the whole twelve seconds he waited felt like an eternity and he decided he couldn’t deal with five whole eternities,  _ or more, _ and just went inside.)

 

Bucky didn’t think anything of it, because he, too, was nervously primping not himself, but his succulents for Steve’s arrival. He had spent the better part of an hour primping himself already, during his lunch break, and there was only so much primping one could do before ruining everything. Bucky, miraculously, decided to quit while he was ahead. He’d already slipped a glove over his left hand and everything.

 

_ This isn’t a date,  _ he repeated over and over again in his head. Every time he caught himself thinking of Steve, maybe even holding hands with him, just being in his presence and having his attention, his heart gave a little jolt and reminded him  _ this isn’t a date. Steve has a boyfriend, Sam. Sam is probably an amazing guy. He probably deserves Steve way more than you ever could. _

 

Suffice to say, Bucky’s day had been full of highs and lows.

 

Steve showing up, a nervous smile on his face, was definitely one of the high points, making Bucky’s heart shoot out of his chest for half a second, before beating erratically. He reminded himself once again,  _ this isn’t a date, no matter how bad you want it to be, no matter how cute Steve looks in his khakis and button-up. This isn’t a date. _

 

But when Steve showed up, looked at Bucky, and said “Wow, Buck, you look really great,” with the softest, most touching smile Bucky thinks he’s ever seen, his knees couldn’t help but go weak. His subconscious couldn’t even muster up a response, either, it just went weak with the rest of Bucky. For once, it just shut the hell up.

 

“Thanks,” Bucky said, shyly. “You, uh, look really great, too.” Bucky could feel a blush rising in his cheeks, and he thought he could feel it spreading down to his chest. His ears were on fire.

 

(Steve wasn’t much better.)

 

The two stood there for a second in silence, staring at each other (with hearts in their eyes).

 

They looked away and awkwardly cleared their throats, both trying to brush off the way they were looking at the other (without realizing the other was looking at them the same way).

 

“Shall we go?” Steve asked with a smile. Bucky nodded. They walked out the door and began the walk to the pub, after Bucky locked up shop.

 

They made small conversation along the way. Their shoulders kept brushing together while they walked along the sidewalk. Bucky felt a little spark of heat every time he could feel Steve’s shoulder brush against his. It made his face get hot, despite the chilly air washing over his cheeks.

 

The pair reached the pub shortly after they left the shop. 

 

It was dimly lit and quiet, everything Bucky hoped for in a public space. There were cozy booths lining the walls, a few tables scattered here and there, a few posters and paintings on the walls. The bartender was nothing fancy, a man in a black shirt. The music wasn’t too loud, the definition of background music, really. There was a dart board against the wall farthest from the door, and the bar was made of wood that was somehow still eye-catching even after years of wear and tear. To add onto the attraction, the place was almost empty. Unsurprising for a week night.

 

It took some of Bucky’s nerves off just seeing that there wasn’t a crowd of people around. A portion of the anxiety he felt melted away. A considerable amount was still there, but maybe if he ignored it, it would go away?  _ When has that ever worked for you, jackass? You’ve been ignoring the fact that Steve is in a relationship and that sure hasn’t gone away,  _ his brain supplied.  _ Shut the fuck up,  _ Bucky fired back.

 

He rolled his eyes at his inner monologues stupidity. Why was he even arguing with himself? That would get him nowhere fast, he was sure of it.

 

“Where do you wanna sit?” Steve asked, jolting Bucky out of his head.

 

“Uh, one of the booths looks nice?” Bucky pointed. Steve navigated to one, Bucky trailing behind him. Steve, thankfully, chose one in a corner, away from the few people scattered around the bar. The music seemed even quieter from the back, somehow not fading out. Bucky felt like he was comfortable in a public place for one, and  _ that _ he couldn’t believe.

 

Steve agreed to go get drinks, waving off Bucky’s hand when he offered to pay. He came back with two beers in frothy mugs. Bucky took a sip, trying to stave off the inevitable silence that the pit of anxiety in his gut was telling him was just around the corner. Steve didn’t feel the same way. He started talking right after he swallowed his mouthful of beer, a little still on his upper lip, making it shine in the dim light of the bar. Bucky had to fight to take his eyes off of it. He went to grab his glass with his left hand, then thought better of it, in case he got nervous, and rested the left on the table while he picked up his drink with his right.

 

_ This isn’t a date, he has a boyfriend. This isn’t a date, he has a boyfriend. This isn’t a date, he has a boyfriend. _

 

“Thank you so much, really, for the orchid.” Bucky held his breath, hoping Steve wouldn’t go on. He could feel his stomach twist at the thought of having to hear more about Sam as his heart rate increased in his ears.

 

Steve stayed silent, and Bucky let out a breath.

 

“It’s no problem, really,” Bucky mumbled.

 

“Well,” Steve replied, grasping a little, “I’m grateful.” He smiled a small smile again, one that made Bucky’s stomach twist for an entirely different reason. Bucky couldn’t help but smile back.

 

They sat there for longer than either would like to admit, smiling like idiots at each other. Steve eventually broke the silence again by clearing his throat.

 

“So, uh, how long have you been running the shop?” He asked. The simple question made Bucky realize he and Steve knew literally nothing about each other, not even last names. They had hardly exchanged first names.

 

“About a year,” Bucky replied after a long swig of his drink. He licked his lips and then began again, “After I came back from overseas, I realized I really liked plants. And my friends kept pushing me to grow some, and I finally did and was pretty good at it. It all kinda snowballed, and, well here we are.”

 

“That’s really cool,” Steve replied after drinking some of his own drink. The glass clinked when he sat it on the table. “So, if it’s not too personal, were you in the military?”

 

Bucky thought for half a second about saying ‘that’s classified’, but he figured Steve might not realize he was joking. He’d been told before he had a dry sense of humor.

 

“Yeah, two tours. Signed up right after high school, didn’t think twice about it.”

 

“Sam did the same thing,” Steve replied. Bucky’s heart plummeted to his stomach at the mention of the name. He was trying his best not to clench his fists too tight or grind his teeth, but he’d felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “Now he’s actually one of the main guys down at the VA.”

 

A light went off in Bucky’s brain, and his face became pinched with confusion. “Sam Wilson?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” Steve said, brightening up, “do you know him?” 

 

“Yeah, I see him every week. He runs one of the groups I go to…” Bucky trailed off, becoming increasingly confused. “But he has a girlfriend?” Bucky blurted. He had to resist the urge to cover his mouth after the words left.

 

“Yeah,” Steve replied, also confused, “so?”

 

“But,” Bucky floundered, “he’s your boyfriend?”

 

Steve burst out laughing. Bucky blushed down to his toes with embarrassment, and a little bit of anger. Why was Steve laughing at him?

 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Steve said, still out of breath. “He’s my best friend, yeah, and he’s helped me a lot, but no, no, he’s not my boyfriend.”

 

Bucky continued to blush now, feeling embarrassed for a different reason. He couldn’t help but start laughing at himself. He buried his face in his hand and laughed.

 

“I thought-I thought you two were dating,” Bucky burst out through his laughter. “This whole time I thought you were getting flowers for him so you could, y’know, like, ask him out.” He laughed some more.

 

Laughter must be contagious, because Steve’s laughter started up again with Bucky’s. 

 

“No, no!” Steve yelled, his face mirroring a look of disgust. “No,” he said one final time. 

 

“Oh god,” Bucky chuckled. “I’m an idiot.”

 

They shared a glance with each other. They kept eye contact for a second, and then burst out laughing. Bucky was suddenly even more glad they were tucked away in the back corner so they didn’t draw attention to themselves while they were almost literally laughing their asses off.

 

Bucky felt tears collect in his eyes, and after a few minutes, the muscles in his cheeks hurt and his stomach was cramping. Steve didn’t look much better, his hand cradling his forehead, his face bright red. They started to breath a little more, laugh a little less, until they looked at each other again and the cycle repeated.

 

“Stop!” Bucky cried after a few minutes of this. “Enough!”   
  


“Stop-st,” pause for laughter, “stop what?”

 

“Look-ing at me like that!”

 

“Like what?”

 

Bucky put his head in his hands and let his shoulders roll with laughter for a few more seconds.

 

“Oh god,” Bucky sighed, “we’re both hopeless.”

 

“I don’t know,” Steve said, laying the charm on thick, “we got here okay didn’t we?” He looked into Bucky’s eyes again and gave him a smile that made Bucky’s heart melt. For once the rolling in his stomach wasn’t out of jealousy or nerves. It was because Steve was looking at him like he was the brightest star in the sky. Bucky had never felt so adored before, and he wasn’t sure what to do now that he was. He blushed more.

 

“A few minor scrapes and bruises,” Bucky joked. 

 

“Isn’t the destination all that matters?” Steve said with the most innocent smirk on his face, taking a long drink of his beer after. Bucky followed in suit.

 

“I guess it does,” Bucky said with a smile, his hand laying palm open on the table.

 

Steve reached across and took his hand, his left one, and laced their fingers together.

 

Bucky’s heart soared into the clouds.

 

~

 

One month later, Steve and Bucky were still going strong. The pair had quickly become close, not just romantically, but as friends as well. They’d spent more than one night up late talking about everything and anything. Steve had learned more about Bucky than anyone, even some of his counsellors, had. He even learned about Bucky’s metal arm and the events which lead to  it. He learned about the inner workings of it, how it was grafted onto Bucky’s skin using metal alloys, how it was as light as could be, but still gave Bucky splitting back pain sometimes. Steve had even learned how the metal arm came to be needed in the first place. He’d never felt so trusted by someone as much as when Bucky told him the story of his team being shot at in the middle of the dessert on a routine outing. Bucky was the only one hurt in his squadron, but a bullet had gone through his upper arm and shattered the plates. One of his teammates wrapped a tourniquet around it to attempt to stop the bleeding, but by the time Bucky was given proper medical treatment, the blood had been too cut off for the arm to save. Almost immediately after his surgery, Bucky had been approached by some hotshot named Tony Stark trying to talk up this arm and all that it could do for Bucky. Bucky agreed to the procedure, and while some days he regretted it, overall he was thankful he’d gone through with it.

 

Steve learned Bucky loved succulents, and while he had a lot in his shop, it was almost unbelievable how many he had in his apartments.

 

There were cactuses of all shape and color, some with little buds growing on the tops of their colorful blooms. Green cactuses also littered the area, some as big as a small child, and some as big as Steve’s thumb. He had echeveria, sedum, aloe (which they’d learned was good for sunburns), Graptopetalum (Steve named all of them Vladimir for no apparent reason, refusing to call them anything else), anything and everything Steve could think of. Big and small pots had gardens of succulents arranged within them. The colors burst brightly, and Steve always felt happy just to be lounging in the spare room, basking in the sights and smells of succulents. (He wholeheartedly believed Bucky had been the sole reason that he was so obsessed with them, and a few had even migrated to his apartment.)

 

Bucky even had a whiteboard with all the different types listed, a chart made for their watering schedules. (Steve may or may not have changed the Graptopetalum to Vladimir. Bucky may or may not have pretended not to notice because he thought it was absolutely adorable. Steve also may or may not have started leaving Bucky cute little notes, and then acting completely ignorant when Bucky brought it up, saying Bucky must have a ghost which thought he was a ‘total cutie’.)

 

Bucky learned his fair share about Steve, too. He’d learned Steve was raised by a single mom and he never really knew his dad. He learned Steve loved chocolate more than anything else, and he’s self conscious about his body because of his high school experience. He’d learned Steve had gone to college to be an art major. He’d learned Steve’s birthday is July 4th, which Bucky had to be shown government-issued proof that that was true. 

 

He’d learned Steve hated being asking whether or not he was a dog or a cat person, because “Buck it’s just so hard to pick! They’re both great.” Steve had learned Bucky was a ‘sloth person,’ so he’d gone and got Bucky a shirt with a large sloth on it with the words CHILL BRO written underneath it. Bucky thought it was hilarious, and he went out to go buy Steve something just as funny. He ended up getting Steve a dark blue sweater with a sloth on it and the phases of the moon behind the creature. Steve laughed so hard and swore he’d wear it out on their next date, no matter where they went (he did, they thankfully went for a picnic). 

 

The two were having the time of their lives.

 

~

 

As if in the blink of an eye, Steve and Bucky had been dating for two months, and then three, and then four. The pair had never felt happier, and soon enough they found themselves moving things into each other’s apartments, mostly Bucky’s. They had become official long ago, and Bucky still couldn’t believe he got to call Steve  _ his boyfriend.  _ They still hadn’t said I love you, but they had grown increasingly close.

 

One night they were lounging on the couch, watching some cliche Rom Com on Bucky’s couch.

 

“What do you think about marriage?” Bucky asked out of the blue, surprising even himself.

 

“I don’t know,” Steve said honestly. “I don’t think I would want to, or need to, prove my love that way.”

 

“Yeah?” Bucky asked.

 

“Yeah. I guess I just don’t see marriage as the pinnacle of a relationship anymore. There are other, bigger ways to prove our love for each other without getting married.” Steve didn’t seem to notice his slip up.

 

“So you love me?” Bucky asked with the cheekiest smirk on his lips.

 

Steve turned the color of a ripe tomato.

 

“Uh-I… I mean, yeah. Yeah, I do love you.” He spit out after a minute.

 

“Good,” Bucky replied, “because I love you.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> come weep with me on [tumblr](http://howdoyou-write.tumblr.com)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Succulent Therapy (Art)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734812) by [Katharoses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katharoses/pseuds/Katharoses)




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